


Cut Your Teeth: Tales of The Glorious and Fucked Up

by Rednaelo



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Drabble Collection, Fury Road AU, Gen, POV Second Person, Rating May Change, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5147303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rednaelo/pseuds/Rednaelo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What will inevitably be a mishmash of dossiers as told by short drabbles.  The characters of More Than Meets the Eye (and more) as Warboys, Wives, and Tyrants.  Gruesome and Beautiful to follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cut Your Teeth: Tales of The Glorious and Fucked Up

**Author's Note:**

> ?????? Don't ask me, man, I'm just doing what feels good. That's all I ever do with my writing, tbh. If you like it, neat, I'm glad. If not, that's cool too. I'm just here to play in the sand.
> 
> -Bec

You go out there battling the sun and when you come back there’s just a little less paint on your plating.  Scratched up by dust and the shards of a wasteland trying to tear through you in the wind.  But you spy your reflection in the chrome of the mounted hubcap display collaged on the cavern walls, your faceplates are streaked red with the flush of the desert’s dirt and you’ve got it smeared across your teeth because you couldn’t stop smiling to yourself the entire time you were out there. Your face isn’t nice but you’re better looking than most of the other warboys.  You do a good job so you get the best paints to pretty up your frame. 

Your bunk is in the Well, deeper into the pit and you’ve fraggin’ earned that.  Drift’s bunk is right up on top of yours so you can yank him out of it when it’s time to race or he can drop down onto you when the days kick your aft a little harder than normal.  It’s difficult but he always manages to get you in gear, even if it means knocking you upside the helm until you try to claw his optics out.  He’s a good friend.  You’re keeping him as long as you can and he’s keeping you as best he can.

Drift isn’t there when you slink down into the Well.  Imperator’s still got him out training the pups.  He’s not cut out for the sparkling-sitting but he delivers good results which is why they stick him with that job on his offdays.  Him and Magnus.  They go together like coolant and antifreeze – awkward as fuck – but it ends up working out for the pups.

So he’s not there.  And you are and you’re scorched and wild and you still wanna go out and tear your treads into the clay but there’s nothing for it, you’re leashed now.  Your intake’s tight and dry and you crash on your bunk and think about how where you lay was once a pit full of energon just waiting to be mined.  Mechs could just pluck the stuff from the ground and suck it dry.  Course, it wouldn’t do anything but get them sick and drunk but it’s the principle of the thing, you tell yourself as you scratch your knuckles against the jagged gouges of the wall.

Everything’s so dry now.  You get what you’re given.  And since you work hard, you’re given enough.  You like to think you get a little extra because you’re a pretty face.  Hey, for all anyone knows, it’s completely true.

You’re crashing into recharge.  You hope Drift won’t have to jump you to get you up in the morning.  You’ve got places to go and desert to rip up.


End file.
